od evening,
and no more, as the women courtesied to the ground, or the men bowed as
deeply as their varying years would permit. The guests then stood about
for quite an hour and talked in undertones; later, perhaps, the host and
hostess mingled with them and conversed. But although Mrs. Adams was
vastly popular, her distinguished husband was less so; he was not always
to be counted upon in the matter of temper. This grim old Puritan, of an
integrity which makes him one of the giants of our early history,
despite the last hours of his administration when he was beating about
in the vortex of his passions, and always honest in his convictions,
right or wrong, had not been gifted by nature with a pleasing address,
although he could attach people to him when he chose. He was irascible
and violent, the victim of a passionate jealous nature, without the
saving graces of humour and liveliness of temperament. But his sturdy
upright figure was very imposing; his brow, which appeared to end with
the tip of his nose, so bold was the curve, would have been benevolent
but for the youthful snapping eyes. His indomitability and his capacity
for hatred were expressed in the curves of his mouth. He was always well
dressed, for although a farmer by birth, he was as pronounced an
aristocrat in his tastes as Washington or Hamilton. At this time,
although he liked neither of them, he was the staunch supporter of the
Government. He believed in Federalism and the Constitution,
insignificant as he found his rewards under both, and he was an ally of
inestimable value.

When the Hamiltons entered his drawing-room to-night they found many
people of note already there, although the minuet had not begun. The
President, his graceful six feet in all the magnificence of black velvet
and white satin, his queue in a black silk bag, stood beside his lady,
who was as brave as himself in a gown of violet brocade over an immense
hoop. Poor dame, she would far rather have been at Mount Vernon in
homespun, for all this pomp and circumstance bored and isolated her. She
hedged herself about with the etiquette which her exalted position
demanded, and froze the social aspirant of insufficient pretensions, but
her traditions and her propensities were ever at war; she was a woman
above all things, and an extremely simple one.

John Jay, now Chief Justice of the United States, was there, as ever the
most simply attired personage in the Union. His beautiful wife, ho